


Security

by DaGuppz (orphan_account)



Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Gen, Prison AU, finally something im good for, i got sick of bad prison au's, i just found out that no one else writes about adam fml
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:36:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/DaGuppz
Summary: After six months served in a snitch filled jail unit, Daniel is given his time sentence in a federal level 3.Inside the prison, though, the two former co-leaders of their once supreme gang, George and Aron, have fallen out.With both interested in Daniel for their own reasons, he turns to the few people outside of their two dueling families, looking for a safe bet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi, kids! long time no see!  
> what dyou mean i was here yesterday, stfu  
> okay, yeah. i have officially gotten sick of all the awful prison au's.   
> i know, i know. most of you are like twelve year old girls and you've never been to prison(colorado standard of fic readers). but, please, for the love of all that is good! just,,, stop,,,,  
> at least go read what its like or if thats not your thing watch after prison show.
> 
> okay, now that that's outta the way, welcome to whatever this new trash is!  
> no its not trash. i like this plot as much as i like asitkos, fite me  
> as always anon commenting is on, chillens

“Pack your shit, Murillo.”   
Danny lifted his head off his pillow, eyes squinted at the light of his pulled back covers.  
The CO standing above him had hands on his hips, “You’re going to prison.”  
Danny couldn’t decide weather he was glad to be out of this snitch filled jail or terrified that he was going to a _prison_.   
Danny sat up and watched the CO kick the bunk of his cellie, “You, too, Leonard. Pack up.”

 

Danny slipped on his shoes and jumpsuit, quickly moving to whatever few belongings he owned, tossing them into the provided bag.

 

He was shuffled out of the housing unit and down the main corridor. His cellie following sleepily behind him and the CO behind both.  
The officer opened the door to the intake and held it behind his back as the two went through.  
“One.” Danny muttered.  
“Two.” The other sneered tiredly.

 

Their things were set on the intake counter and they were sat on the benches along the right wall.  
“Yeah, just go through their shit ‘n’ we’ll search ‘em, too.” The OC said to another.

 

“So.”  
Danny glanced at the younger man next to him, “Hmm?”  
“You been told what level they’re shipping you off to?”  
“No.” Danny stated blandly.  
His cellie was quite a character. Anthony Leonard, preferring to go by the shorted _Tony_. Only 18 and locked up for something he had been smart enough not to run his lips about. He was smart, though. He had built computers on the outs. Now, in the system for only a month or so, he had been building tattoo machines, weapons, and creative objects for anything a prisoner could want. All of it for a price of course. Tony felt a sense of loyalty to the older man, after all he had saved him from getting his junniecakes wasted a few times.

 

“Leonard. C’mon, you’re getting searched first.” Said the officer.  
“Don’ get caught suitcasin’ nothin’.” Danny joked as the younger stood and headed off.

 

As soon as Danny closed his eyes for a few more winks of sleep he was jolted awake by Tony lightly kicking his shoe. The kid was still in his government provided clothing but around his ankles and wrists were shackles and around his waist was the chain his hands were bound to. Still, a smile lit up his face.

 

Danny stood from his place on the bench and walked over to where the CO was holding the search room’s door open.

 

Inside, Danny kicked off his shoes, pulled off his jumpsuit, shirt, and state provided boxers. The CO shook each article of clothing before dropping it back on the ground.  
Danny let out a disgusted sound as he took his socks off.   
He kicked them away as they were shaken out, too.

 

He shook out his hair, opened his mouth, rubbed behind his ears, lifted his arms, and yes, the oh-so infamous, squat and cough.   
Taking his clothes back, the first things on were his socks. God knows what kind of diseases were all over these floors.

 

Back in the intake, he was again shackled and sat waiting to be loaded into a state van.

 

Everything was still dark as Danny lifted himself into the van and into the second seat. He buckled himself in, laughing quietly as Tony failed twice to latch the seat belt, the CO finally having to do it for him.

 

The van started and Danny slouched and threw his head back onto the cushioned seat for another attempt at getting more sleep.  
Danny watched through half lidded eyes as Tony rested his head on the seat and focused his gaze out the barred window of the van.

 

Danny felt bad for the kid. He really did. Tony was just a kid who had a whole life ahead of him but got locked up in jail and now was getting thrown into a prison with God knows what kind of gangster, murderers, and rapists. Not that any prisoner Danny knew ever had respect for the latter.  
Danny decided, after seeing the dash clock at three-thirty a.m., that it really was the best idea to sleep more. And with that, he shut his eyes and let the ride continue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys were so helpful with my problem the last time, thanks.  
> //sarcasm//  
> whatever.  
> yall can have this imma go crawl in a hole somewhere and die, thanks.

The sun was barely in the sky and tiny stars still speckled it in soft glitter. Watercolor pale streaks of pink and cantaloupe lightly flourished the otherwise heavy blue sky. The barred van’s headlight broke through the shining mesh of the prison’s fence, pulling up to the first gate to be given access.  
Danny lifted his head and squinted at the fence lights tiredly.   
In front of him Tony rolled on his side as much as he could, tucking his face into his chest to shield it from the bright light.

 

The fenced gate squealed open, it’s alarm blaring loudly.  
The van moved through the first gate and it closed behind it.  
It followed the same procedure with the next one, voiced in, alarm, drive through, close gate.

 

Both inmates were unloaded from the van, giving count as they walked through a locked door. Count again as they pass another. 

 

Danny was sat in the bullpen to the left of the front entrance, Tony in the same one.  
“Well, I guess you’re stuck with me for a little bit longer, yeah?” Tony joked halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

 

Danny huffed out a mock laugh, “‘ _A little bit longer_ ’ is right if you run y’re mouth here like you did at th’ jail.”   
Tony chuckled and kicked his feet against the cement flooring.

 

“Don’ pick up a pris’n accent, neither. Judge can’ understan’ a word I say to this day.” Danny continued their small talk while fiddling with his fingers, tracing the cross on his left pinkie-finger.

 

“Well, I understand you just fine. Maybe the judge should spend some time in prison.” Tony murmured, looking up as the lock on the bullpen door unlatched loudly.

 

“Murillo, Leonard, hop to it. Search time.”

 

Danny grumbled about prison’s lack of privacy and followed the staff member.

 

And again, Danny was searched, same procedure as before. Socks off last and back on first.  
Tony followed in suit, just as uncomfortable as if he was in the showers with a load of strangers.

 

With some fancy, not-so-new bright orange prison shoes, hopefully washed prison boxers and yellow-ish undershirt, and, of course, the classic ugly as fuck prison jumpsuit.  
In a brand new, stylish color: traffic cone orange.

 

Sat back in the bullpen, Danny brought up a new subject.  
“What’re you gunn’ do if they put you in a differ’nt block th’n me, Tony? You jump ‘roun’ scared ev’n when I’m in the same block ‘s you.”

 

Tony hummed and rested his elbows on his knees, “I guess I never thought about that. I mean, I’m sure I can take care of myself. It’s just- nice to have someone you… trust around.”

 

Danny raised an eyebrow, “Trust? The Hell’re you doin’ trustin’ people in places like this?”  
“What?” Tony sat up a bit straighter, “You’re trustworthy. You’ve saved my ass more in the past year than I’ve eaten breakfast this month. Don’t cut yourself short, Danny. You’re a good guy, I like you.”

 

Danny turned his attention back to the door of the bullpen, waiting for it to open again. “Gay ass mo’herfucker.” He laughed out.  
“That’s me!” Tony said with a smile, lounging back as much as he could on the bench. “That’s me.” He repeated, quieter.

 

When the bullpen door did open again, both Danny and Tony had both dozed off and the clanking lock abruptly cut off their nap.  
“Leonard, Murillo, c’mon. Left wing, A Block, both of you. Let’s go.” The heavyset CO held the door open for both them as they counted through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i even need this end thing anymore?  
> this is just my bit to have more bitching space than just tumblr.  
> do people actually read this? or am i talking to myself?  
> probs the latter...  
> funfact for anyone that cares: my prison accent is still here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how prison works in cali, so im going off what i know from where i live, but i am trying to make it as accurate as possible.  
> enjoy, chillens

Danny tossed his sheets on the bunk he was assigned, the top one. Below, on his cellie’s bunk, papers were half stuck out of a magazine and a water cup stuck between the mattress and the wall.  
Danny hauled himself up onto the bunk and pulled the sheets over the stained, cut up mattress. He took a look inside every hole before moving the sheet along.

 

“Hey, Danny?”   
Danny groaned and turned around to see Tony sticking his head into the cell.   
“What?”  
“Can I come in?” He asked softly.  
Danny turned back around and finished pulling the sheets up and threw his pillow at the head of the bunk, “Sure. Ge’ch’ur ass up ‘ere.”

 

The younger smiled and pushed himself up to Danny’s level, and sat, looking down at his swinging feet.  
“That film scared the fuck out of me.” He muttered.  
“Yeah. I’ ‘ll do that tha firs’ time. An’ tha secon’. An’ tha third. ‘N’ fourth. ‘N’ fif’. ‘N’ pro’lly ferever.” Danny laid back on the bunk and folded his hands over his stomach, his eyes closed.

 

Tony did the same, staring at Danny’s hands.  
“Does it still scare you?” He whispered.  
“Yeah. ‘Course. On’y idiots ain’ scared. Thin’ th’re tough shit.”

 

Tony smiled, “Sooo… You ain’t tough then?”  
“One; Don’ say _ain’_. Two; No, I ain’.”

 

Tony looked towards the door for a second then back to Danny, his eyes were stilled closed.  
“So… You wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He reached his left hand over and set it on Danny’s, wrapping his fingers loosely around the bigger hand.

 

Danny sighed audibly, “Gay ass mo’herfucker.”  
Tony chuckled lightly, “Yep, you know it.”

 

After a few minutes, Tony asked, “You seen your cellie yet?”  
“No.” Danny grumbled, annoyed to have the peace broken.  
“Me either.”  
“Mhh.” Danny grunted, rubbing his thumb on Tony’s. “Ugh, y’re rubbin’ off on me.”

 

Tony laughed and rolled over, throwing an arm over Danny’s torso, “Oh, don’t say you don’t like it.”

 

“Aye! What’s goin’ on up there?”

 

Danny shot up, making Tony go tumbling over the edge of the bunk and onto the floor with a loud curse and thump.  
“Damn, dude, y’ jus’ got rejected.”  
The man was probably a year or so younger than Danny, decked out in many more tattoos than him, his ears stretched widely and filled with state provided plugs.  
“‘Ey call me J-Dog. Wha’ ‘bout you?”  
“Danny.”  
“Mo’e like Tha Gold’n Beas’ wi’h tha’ fuckin’ hair’a y’r’s. Y’ go’a re-dye tha’ shit man!” J-Dog laughed. “‘N’ you, oh so graceful one?”

 

“Uh! T- Tony.” He stuttered out.

 

“Aight, well, ge’ offa tha groun’ so’s I c’n ge’ t’ m’ bunk.” His tone became sharp and Tony scrambled out of the way and onto his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im case you dont know what film is mentioned, just google "prison rape video" and you should be able to find it.   
> probably THE most single traumatizing thing ive seen in my life.  
> aight comments over kudos, kiddos.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not dead, but i wish i was  
> anywhore, i have another fic im starting along with this one thats a bit on the idk weirder side i guess  
> eh enjoy if ya can considerinh i know many people dont  
> ya motherfuckin faggots out on tumblr talkin shit  
> meet on the streets mothafucka n talk shit there  
> okay anyway

“Hey,” J-Dog tapped the side of Danny’s bunk, “Sooo, wha’s b’tween you ‘n’ tha’ Tony guy?”  
Danny looked at him with a deadpanned response, “Wha’s that ‘spossed t’ mean?”  
J-Dog rested his forearms on the edge of the bunk, standing on his tip toes, “Well, y’all we’re ‘oldin’ han’s when I came in.”

 

Danny narrowed his eyes at the younger man, “And?”  
“I was jus’ wond’rin’ if y’all were gay f’r each o’her.”

 

Danny grasped J-Dog by the collar of his undershirt, twisting it in his hands, and pulling him up to his level. “You jus’ call me a punk, mo’hfucka?”  
J-Dog put his put his hands up in surrender, “No, no. Jus’ legit cur’ostity. Di’n’t mean no’hin’ by it.”

 

Danny dropped him back down, “Fuck you.”  
J-Dog rolled his eyes and looked away, “Jus’ try’na make small talk.”

 

“You ‘ave no idea ‘ow small talk works, do ya?” Danny sneered, going back to staring at the cell’s ceiling.  
“Psh. I know ‘xac’ly how small talk works, ‘ou jus’ do’no’ ‘ow to be nice.”

 

“I know _ex_ actly how bein’ nice works!” Said said louder, sitting up quickly.  
“You gunna be a bitch of a cellie, Goldy?” J-Dog questioned sarcastically, ducking into his bunk and riffling through it.

 

“Oh! _I’m_ th’ one bein’ a bitch, huh? Mo’fucka comin’ in ‘ere accusin’ me of bein’ a faggot.”  
“Hey!” J-Dog snapped, pulling back out of his bunk and pointing an electrical tape wrapped tattoo gun at him.  
“Don’ you motherfuckin’ use tha’ word ‘roun’ ‘ere. You liable t’ ge’ch’yo ass beat.”

 

Danny narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to the side, “The Hell’re you talkin’ ‘bout?”

 

“What? Y’ ne’er go’ tol’ ‘bout Aron ‘n’ George ‘n’ ‘ow th’ll beat the Hell ou’ya if you start slingin’ tha’ word ‘roun’?”

 

“Yeaaah, no. The fuck’re they?” Danny asked, leaning down on his elbow to get closer to J-Dog.  
“Shhhh! Watch what’chur sayin’.” J-Dog looked toward the door of their cell before looking back at Danny and tossing the tattoo gun on his bunk.  
“George an’ Aron were the co-foun’erd o’a gang in ‘ere. Whole buncha gay guys star’ed tryna get transferred t’ ‘his block ‘cause they woulda had a Hell’va lot more allies up’n ‘ere th’n on o’her blocks.”  
J-Dog looked back out the door.  
“‘Ey had some fallin’ out ‘n’ shit went bad ‘n’ the whole gang spli’ up. Half ‘n’ half, yo. Fuckin’ creamer, man.”

 

“So…” Danny started, “I assume y’re in one’a ‘em?”

 

“God no. I lef’ tha’ shit right when i’ star’ed.” ‘M chilling w’i’ Shady ‘n’ Adam now, mos’ logical mo’herfuckers ‘ere.”

 

“Huh” Danny replied simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would say "comments over kudos" but at this point nobody cares  
> looking at all yall  
> still want those faggots from tumblr to meet me out here  
> i still have some of their phone numbers, do thats funny  
> EDIT: okay ya know that tattoo gun i mention jorel having? yes its an important part of the story stfu  
> well i just found mine shoved away in a drawer, have a photo https://imgur.com/a/bSMqr


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not dead, though i wish i were  
> alright, yall enjoy or whatever

The morning came slowly, COs doing rounds whenever they felt like it.   
With the sun peaking through the window at the back of the pod, people began to stir. Some moving around while other lazed in their cells for the early hours, waiting for the sun to dim into the afternoon.  
Tony, on the other hand, had been awake all night. Back to the wall, curled under his thin, wool blanket while his cellie slept peacefully under him.

 

Bening in an actual prison and not just jail for the first time wasn’t the only thing putting his nerves on end.  
His cellie was damn terrifying.  
The man was 6’6”, decked out in more tattoos than Danny, and could probably murder him without a problem.  
It was moment like these he wished he never committed that damned crime, he just couldn’t resist, though, could he?

 

While he was lost in thought, the man on his mind had stumbled out of his bunk and to his locker on the other side of the cell.  
His shoulder length hair was a mess from sleep and fell over his face and he bent down to take his shoes from the foot of his locker.

 

Tony shrunk down into his bunk as he turned around.  
“You gu’a keep sta’in’ a’ me like tha’ or in’a’duce y’sel’?”

 

 _Now you’ve done it, Tony. This is the end, Danny’s not here to save your ass now. He can see in your eyes your crime!_  
“Tony.” He squeaked.

 

“Tha’s ei’r the saddest mor’in’ voice I e’er heard or you ain’t gone through puberty yet.”

 

They locked eyes for a few good seconds before the bigger man spoke, “You gu’a come t’ breakfas’?”  
“Yeah…”

 

 

Tony’s mouth was dry as he followed the other out of their cell, his eyes scanning the block for Danny.

 

He jumped as an arm was slung around his shoulder, “Name’s Dylan b’a tha way, ne’er a fan o’’ose nick names.”  
He pulled Tony close, “Kin’ jumpy ain’t’cha? Firs’ time in pris’n?”

 

Tony cleared his throat nervously, “Yeah.”  
“Ah, don’ worry, lil’ homie, I go’ so’ hermanos y’ c’n chill wit’!” He laughed loudly as he pulled Tony along to the mess hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments over kudos, blah blah  
> i want pancakes but i dont have bananas fml

**Author's Note:**

> ahem, comments ova kudos, kiddos.  
> yall are gunna need a prison to english translation for this story, arent you?  
> smh...


End file.
